Homicidally Insane
by Noxjana
Summary: When Crazoa Canely found a Death Note, he became a menace to society. When he's captured and put into an asylum, what will he do? And who is the mysterious 'Beyond' who lived in the dorm next to him?
1. the troubled boy

1

The Very Troubled Boy

Ever since Crazoa Canely had been only very small, there had always been something irregular about him. When his mother had give birth to him, hers and her husband's lives instantaneously went down the drain. Crazoa had already been a troublesome baby that needed constant attention, but honesty, which weren't? At two years old he was much worse. He bullied other toddlers, slapping and biting them, and even breaking their toys as well as his own.

The one and only time Crazoa had been baby sat; he had run away from the young girl as she had turned around to retrieve a new diaper. This resulted in the neighbors calling the police and child welfare agency reporting that there was in fact a half naked toddler waddling along the street and urinating on their cat.

As Crazoa's pranks became worse with age, Mr. and Mrs. Canely continuously denied there was anything wrong with their son and insisted it was simply a phase, and he would grow out of it.

When Mrs. Canely went to pick up her son from his first day of Kindergarten, his Principle informed her that he had lifted the skirt of a girl, kicked a boy from the class above him in between the legs, threw all the sports play equipment in the dumpster and played multiple pranks on his teacher; including the classic whoopee-cushion and pin on the chair. He'd even hidden her purse; all in his first day of school. The principle proceeded to accusingly ask Mrs. Canely if this was some kind of sick joke, and told her never to bring her son back to the school again.

By the time Mr. and Mrs. Canely had sent Crazoa to five different schools which he had been expelled from all, they finally decided that their son was indeed a troubled child.

They had already attempted every punishment they could think up of. When they tried to spank him, he stuck newspaper in his trousers and faked the pain. When they took away his toys, he stole somebody else's. When they put him on restriction, he ran away from home. And heck, they'd even tried hypnotism, but Crazoa had point blank refused to look at the odd woman.

Of course, this was all Crazoa had come across a Death Note.

Years went by and Crazoa had to be homeschooled. Ironically, just as his parents had earlier predicted, Crazoa's antic's decreased and he acquired a pleasant and well-mannered masquerade.

Now at fifteen, he had finally been able to catch up on his education and was at last fit for school.

Crazoa strolled through the gate after having his parents drop him off. This was technically his second day of school, his first day was slightly hazy and yet he still received a chilling satisfaction when he thought about it, remembering the look on the teachers face when she sat on that pin. He chuckled to himself cruelly. Oh he was going to pull up a heck of a lot of drama in this high-school. This time he wouldn't be discovered.

Crazoa was a tall and gangly looking teenager. He had dark, sharp features. He had sunken eyes and cheek bones and very pale skin. His face gave off a pointed kind of appearance, thanks to his impossibly straight nose and pointed chin. He had jet black hair, which was gelled into a spiky style. His eyes were also piercing obsidian.

As he walked along the path towards the office, he went by quite unnoticed. A few kids gave him a glance, knowing he was probably the weird new kid the teachers had told them about. They didn't seem to give him much notice.

A small bell rang as he opened the door to the office. The woman behind the counter was reading a book. She looked up briefly at his entrance, put down the book and took off her glasses. "Can I help you?" She was young and pretty; probably an assistant of some sort.

Crazoa closed his eyes for a moment then looked slowly up at her and with a small smirk he replied to her, rather snidely. "I'm not sure, can you?" How cruel. He was just as picky as an English teacher.

"_May_ I?" she laughed briefly, correcting her mistake. Crazoa wondered what was so funny. He assumed this had to be some kind of attempt to be friendly. Well Crazoa didn't need it. He took out a sheet and slowly with a boney hand he slid it across the counter toward the woman.

"I am a new student this school. Today shall be my first day." He said. Very slowly, yet smoothly; he often spoke like this so that all the abominable people around him would understand.

The woman briefly read the sheet and nodded, "Crazoa Canely?" she asked "What a peculiar name. Well then, I assure you, you will be well looked after at this school."

_I doubt it_. Crazoa thought.

"Here is your time table and a map, have a nice day." She said as she handed him some pieces of paper, "If you have any questions, feel free to ask a fellow student. I'm sure they will help make you feel at home."

She said all this just as the bell rang; just his luck, late on his first day. Without speeding up his casual and well postured pace, Crazoa walked out the office and through the corridor. He noticed something in the corner of his eye near a locker. Apparently it had toppled out of someone's locker or they had dropped it.

He walked over and realized it was a black notebook. He smirked; someone's diary?

Crazoa looked around briefly, and after confirming there was nobody in the corridor, he picked it up and flipped it over. It had been upside down.

"Death Note?" Crazoa said out loud curiously. It probably belonged to some emo kid. The right thing to do would be to return it to the lost and found. Of course, that's what he _should_ do. But since when did Crazoa do the_ right thing?_ He decided to read it later, right now he had to go to class. He stuffed it in his backpack before proceeding to his class. His first subject was Math. Crazoa was intelligent, he would have no problem in this class, but that didn't mean he would enjoy it.

Crazoa knocked on the door frame and the teacher looked up from some papers. "Ah! You must be…" he glanced at a role on his desk, "Mr. Canely?"

"That is correct," Crazoa gave a brisk bow to the man as some students looked up from there work and stared incredulously at him. He wondered why, but was not intimidated. He was used to weird looks.

Crazoa strolled into the room and scanned it. Now everyone was looking at him. He took a mental snapshot of the room, taking in everybody's faces and where they were seated.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Canely, today we are working on Algebra. I assume you know the theory, the work is on the board."

_Was this some kind of joke?_ Crazoa had covered Algebra six years ago. Oh well, that way he could easily finish quickly and then do whatever he wanted, or maybe leave class early and have time to check out the diary.

The only free seat was next to a girl with ludicrous curly red hair. He slung his bag over his chair and began pulling out his books and beginning to get to work when the girl spoke to him in a hushed whisper.

"Hi." She whispered.

"Greetings," Crazoa replied politely.

"How come you talk all funny?" She whispered back.

Crazoa winced at the bad English and proceeded, "By that question, I assume you are curious of the way I go about communicating, correct?"

The girl stared blankly at him, mouth slightly agape.

Crazoa rolled his eyes. "Well why do you speak like an illiterate cat? Not that cats are literate in the first place."

"Touché," She nodded. "My name's Annie. You don't need to tell me yours, I already know it. Everybody does."

"Is that so?" Crazoa asked dully, beginning to get frustrated with the nosy girl.

The teacher cleared his throat and looked expectantly at the new student. "Is there something you would like to share with us Mr. Canely?"

"Yes, actually sir," Crazoa replied, grabbing at the opportunity, "In honest truth, I have already covered Algebra and learned it thoroughly. I see no need for myself to go over it again, is there perhaps some extra work that you could happen to assign me?"

The teacher blinked. "Oh I'm sorry but no, you may proceed to read a novel or take a nap."

_A nap?_ What kind of school was this?

A few seats away, Crazoa heard a snigger. His eyes snapped briefly to a burly boy who nudged his friend. Crazoa leaned back against his creaky chair casually, and propped his legs on his table, lifting his arms and placing them behind his head. He watched the pair from the edge of his vision curiously. They seemed to be scheming something and they kept throwing Crazoa mischievous glances.

He wondered what this had to mean. Crazoa had no idea of average child behavior, and obviously he was very different to the other students.

The bell rang shrilly, and Crazoa was the first one packed and he immediately rushed from the room, remembering the diary stashed in his bag. He was eager to kick up some blackmail on someone for his first day. On his way out, he noticed everyone's table had a name tag; curious, he glanced at the burly boy's. His name was Jake Trident, and his friend's was Mason Ripley. Crazoa had made his way to the lunch area outside, sitting at a solitary bench far from the main area, and without even thinking about food he pulled out the notebook and opened it up with slender fingers.

It was empty. Completely blank.

How useless! He thought disappointedly. Wait a minute, something was odd about it. Further inspection of the notebook told him that pages had been torn out. And not well, there were still chunks of paper at the spine. Obviously, whatever had been written in it, the owner of the book didn't want anybody to read it. Then they had promptly abandoned the thing. Curious.

For the first time, Crazoa glanced at the inside cover. There was white text in the same style as the title on the front. There was a skull at the top, how eerie. Crazoa read it aloud.

"The human's whose name is written in this note shall die." He couldn't help but laugh aloud. Some students who had come spilling out of the building glanced at him but took no more notice when they saw he was reading something. A funny book, perhaps.

Well it _was_ funny; in a macabre kind of way. Crazoa continued reading.

"This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his or her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds." This was exceedingly well thought out for a stupid gothic prank, and it was also exceedingly ridiculous.

Just as Crazoa was about to toss it into a trash can, a large shadow loomed over him.

He slowly and cautiously turned around. There was a large metal skull belt in front of him. He looked up and saw a very tall… man (?) above him. But it didn't look like a man. It looked like a monster. Something like knight's armor with a skull for a head and very long grimy looking hair. It even held a scythe.

"Why hello." It spoke in a small croak sort of voice. "It looks like you found my notebook."


	2. The death noteis real?

_Just as Crazoa was about to toss it into a trash can, a large shadow loomed over him._

_He slowly and cautiously turned around. There was a large metal skull belt in front of him. He looked up and saw a very tall… man (?) above him. But it didn't look like a man. It looked like a monster. Something like knight's armor with a skull for a head and very long grimy looking hair. It even held a scythe._

"_Why hello." It spoke in a small croak sort of voice. "It looks like you found my notebook."_

2

The Death Note… is real?

Crazoa stared up at the phantom then back at the notebook in his hand. He seemed utterly unperturbed. He looked around the grounds. No else seemed to notice the creature. Crazoa looked back up at the skull face, "Is this some kind of ghastly hallucination?" he asked it. It was odd for him to be having one. He hadn't taken anything… recently.

The thing chuckled. It sounded like it was hacking up its lungs. "No, but you can't really be sure of my answer if you think I'm a hallucination can you?" It reasoned.

The boy raised and eyebrow and raised the notebook openly, "Here, you may have it back. I apologize for taking it from you."

The phantom looked surprised, "Well I could if you wanted me to, but then I'd have to erase all your memories concerning the Death Note. Are you sure you don't want to make use of it while you have the chance?"

Crazoa was all the more surprised, "You want me to keep it?"

"It's your choice." Said the phantom, "The Death Note is now yours."

_Mine?_ The boy looked down at the notebook. If he wasn't imagining the creature, and it was real, it meant that the notebook was real. This was immense power that he was holding in his hands. Crazoa once again looked around; people were starting to stare again. But only at him. It looked like he was talking to himself. "They can't see you?" he asked, astounded.

"Nope! The only people who can see me if those who have touched my Death Note. In other words, the Death Note is the bond between Crazoa, human; and Smith, Shinigami."

Crazoa didn't ask how the thing new his name, nor did he ask what a 'Shinigami' was. It sounded like an Asian term; this was Australia he was living in. Instead, he hurriedly stuffed the notebook into his backpack and walked off. He slipped out the map in his pocket as he walked, looking for some quiet place to be able to speak the thing, which's name was apparently Smith. He decided on the library, and as he walked with his nose to the piece of paper he suddenly bumped into something. Expecting that it was the 'Shinigami', he cried out in exasperation and the map flew out of his hand as he was knocked back slightly. But it wasn't Smith; it was Jake Trident, the burly kid who had laughed at Crazoa in class, and his friend, Mason Ripley. The burl wasn't even muscle, he was just big boned. Gross.

"Hey, you little punk!" he spoke in an immensely stupid deep voice. "Go back where you came you medieval freak!" Mason sniggered and egged Jake on.

Surprised, Crazoa had raised both eyebrows. Oh he knew how to deal with these kinds of people, having been attacked so many times before "Does the way I speak bother you? Well I must apologize if I offended your un-adapted mind and your thick skull." Crazoa immediately ducked, knowing there would be a punch from that, and he was right. He had missed it by inches.

"HEY!" shouted Mason, and made a grab for Crazoa, who did a barrel roll on the grass while Smith watched in excitement. There was now a crowd gathering to watch the fight. They were mostly cheering for Crazoa. Apparently Jake and Mason weren't very popular. "My money's on the skinny one!" some people shouted.

After his roll, Crazoa had darted behind Jake while Mason had fallen to the ground. Crazoa, who was still crouched, gave a seemingly impossible 'The Matrix'-like jump and kicked Jake in the back of the head, who was knocked out, and his heavy body fell on the outraged Mason.

Suddenly everyone was cheering and ran over to Crazoa and swamped him. Oh great, the last thing Crazoa wanted was attention, he had things to do! Stupid thugs.

He fought out of the crowd and ran to the library as quickly as possible, hiding behind a book shelf and panting.

"You know you could always just kill them." Came the croak of Smith, "Just write their names in the Death Note, it's not hard." He laughed again.

Crazoa considered, seeing as he had totally just kicked their butts, it didn't look like they'd be trying to bother him again. But Crazoa had a cruel mind, and he'd kill anyone who annoyed him if he had the power, and now he did.

_I have nothing to fear!_ He realized, obsidian eyes going wide. _I'm unstoppable._

Crazoa pulled out the Death Note and a pen, and looked over the rules again. "Smith?" he whispered.

"Yes?" the said being croaked.

"It says here that I can choose the cause of death. In that case, can I also choose the _time of death?_

Smith was surprised; the kid had been quick on the uptake. "Yeah you can. I've never used it that way before though, but why don't you just kill them right away?"

A thought suddenly struck Crazoa. A long time ago, when he was still just a blundering little kid, there was some kind of crazy thing happening. For a few years, something was happening in Japan that criminals worldwide were dying of sudden heart attacks. The person behind it was known as 'Kira'. Apparently he wanted to rid the world of evil. Crazoa's memory was hazy, he hadn't cared less about current affairs as a kid, but this thing was pretty big and significant.

"Smith, do you know anything about the_ Kira Case?"_ He had dropped all formalities at this point, and the moment Crazoa sounded even desperate.

"Huh? Oh yeah sure, some guy Ryuk mentioned something about it. He dropped his Death Note and some guy went crazy with it for a couple of years, why?" Smith asked wonderingly.

"So _Kira_ used a Death Note? Which belonged to another one of these_ Shinigami_ things?"

"Yeah of course, there's a lot of Shinigami and a lot of Death Notes."

Crazoa thought for a moment. He couldn't care less about Kira's visions. He wasn't going to try to become God. After all, he could've been killed himself if he had been an adult at that time. But who said he couldn't have a bit of fun?

"So are you going to kill them or what?" Smith asked impatiently.

"Yeah I am." Crazoa finally decided, "But I'm not going to kill them right away."

"Why not?" Smith asked incredulously. Humans were so strange.

"Because…" Crazoa began, mimicking Smith's impatient tone. "Don't you think it would be a little suspicious if two thugs who had just tried to beat me up suddenly just died of heart attacks? After the Kira situation, I of course, wouldn't be surprised if an investigation was suddenly put underway… so instead."

Crazoa bent down and began writing in the notebook.

_Jake Trident_

_Accidental death, Tuesday 27__th__ of April_

_Struck by a car while walking to school with a friend_

_Mason Ripley_

_Accidental death, Tuesday 27__th__ April_

_Struck by a car while walking to school with a friend_

The boy straightened up, admiring his handiwork. "I'll let them die in an accidental death in a week from now. That way, it will appear to just be another unfortunate accident." He smirked, eyes flashing insanely.

"Ve-ry smart." Smith mused, lengthening the word, "So you want them to die together, but what if they are walking with different friends?"

Crazoa smiled crookedly once more. "Didn't you notice Smith? They don't have any other friends." He whispered. He had to keep himself from laughing or the Librarian would come. "You obviously aren't very good at making observations, are you?"

As the boy walked seemingly alone out of the library to his next class, the croaky voice spoke in his ear, "You know kid, I think we're going to get along just fine."

"Yes that's right." Crazoa muttered darkly, "We have a lot to talk about, my friend."

"By the way, do you have any apples?"


	3. The shinigami's explenation

"_You know kid, I think we're going to get along just fine."_

"_Yes that's right." Crazoa muttered darkly, "We have a lot to talk about, my friend."_

"_By the way, do you have any apples?"_

3

The Shinigami's Explanation

The rest of Crazoa's day went… dare he say it, very well. Instead of receiving the incredulous stares and terrified glances he'd been so accustomed to, other students actually began to look up to him. They gave him very respectful and admiring gazes. Some people even asked him where he had learned to fight like that. But he simply smirked and pressed a finger to his lips, "It's a secret." He would say, and everyone would gasp in infatuation. The _girls_ especially; who would have thought? It had turned out that Crazoa was quite the looker, even though he looked like he had never eaten, with his sharp and perfect features, his silky voice and dark eyes that could hypnotize. What's more, people even begged to touch his hair. Even his speech somehow became more popular. Crazoa had overheard some girls saying it sounded 'Old Fashioning-ly Romantic'. Like male characters from Jane Austin novels.

The teachers didn't even give him homework because of the 'Bravery he displayed'. But Crazoa had a slight inkling that it was because any homework he would be given would be completed in five minutes, having seen how he worked in class. Some of the teachers wondered why his parents even bothered sending him to school.

Yes it was all good fun through half of the day, but then it began getting a little annoying. Girls would fight to look through the small window in the door of classrooms just to get a peek of him and follow him around everywhere. And soon Crazoa was getting bored, and he'd reply to people with less enthusiasm.

The worst was Annie, she wouldn't leave him alone. But at least she wasn't utterly infatuated with him like everybody else. She had, after all 'befriended' Crazoa first, and all she wanted was his friendship. Too bad he couldn't give it to her; while all that happened, Jake and Mason were completely avoiding Crazoa, and skipped any classes they knew that they were with him.

Smith watched all of this in mild amusement.

Finally as the day drew to a close, and the excited atmosphere had subsided, the final bell rang and all the students flocked out of the building. Crazoa was typically one of the first ones out. His parents were already at the gate, waiting for him outside the car.

"How was your first day honey?" his mother asked while twisting her fingers nervously. They were obviously anxious.

"It was satisfyingly eventful." He smiled mildly as he climbed into the car. Smith crammed himself inside after him.

Mr. and Mrs. Canely exchanged expressions of surprise and relief. They both got into the car too and as they were driving home, they spoke to him every so often. Now and then, Crazoa felt like his parents were intimidated by him. He wasn't surprised.

"So did you get any homework son?" his father asked.

"Not at all; the teachers were quite satisfied with my performance in-class. I don't expect to be receiving any homework anytime soon."

His parents looked surprised. Crazoa could see their expressions in the car mirrors. "Looks like that extra tutoring payed off after all." Mr. Canely mused.

"Didn't get into any trouble did you dear?" Mrs. Canely asked anxiously.

"Well actually," there was a sharp intake of breath from the pair, "Some thugs decided they would attempt to fight me due to my nature, but of course, thanks to the kickboxing classes, a taught them a lesson."

They both exhaled in relief, "Nothing else happened?"

Crazoa paused. It would be very stupid to tell them about the notebook. "Not at all."

After dinner, when Smith had started to complain, Crazoa grabbed an apple and made his way to his bedroom while his parents watched the news. Crazoa himself wasn't interested, not until Jake and Mason died of course. He tossed Smith the apple as he sat at his desk.

"Wow Ryuk was right, these really are great." Exclaimed Smith as he munched the fruit.

"Alright, let's begin." The boy interrupted him in a hushed voice. "What are you, and where did you come from?"

The reaper swallowed his last bite loudly and explained. "As I mentioned before, I am a Shinigami – A God of Death." He said when Crazoa gave a meaningful look. "I come from the Shinigami Realm, where many other creatures of my kind live."

"And what… is a Shinigami's purpose?" The boy pressed, his eyes alight.

"Purpose? That's a good question. Even I don't know. It's surviving I guess."

"Surviving how? What do you do with the Death Note?"

"When a Shinigami writes a human's name in the Death Note, they get the remaining years of the human's lifespan. For example, if I saw a human who was supposed to die when he was 80, and I wrote his name down when he was 40, I would get the remaining 40 years added to my lifespan. Of course, no matter how many people killed by a human owner of the Death Note, they won't get any years added to their lifespan."

Crazoa was now sitting on the edge of his seat, looking very excited indeed. "How do you find a human's name? And how do you know when they are supposed to die?"

"Ah, now this is the best part of being a Shinigami." Smith said happily, "A Shinigami can see a human's name and life span floating above their head just by looking at their face! And you know what else?"

Crazoa shook his head slowly.

"You can get these eyes, by doing just one simple deal with me."

Crazoa gulped, sensing this wasn't going to be good, "And what must I give in return?"

"Oh not much," Smith chuckled mischievously, "Just half of your remaining lifespan."

Crazoa leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin in thought. Half of his lifespan for the power to see someone name just by looking at them. He'd be even more unstoppable. It was definitely tempting. "I'll pass for now." He decided. "But I can make the deal anytime, correct?"

"Correct."

Yes that was perfect. Crazoa would see how long he would go without the added power, and then he would just get the eyes when he really needed them. There was no point loosing half of his life for something he might not need.

"Can I have another apple?" The Shinigami asked.

"Later." Crazoa said, suddenly feeling tired. This was so much information and he had had a long day. Crazoa took out the notebook from his bag and stuck it into his pillowcase. He didn't want his parents coming across it by accident. Then he turned in for the night.

Smith, who looked disappointed, rested his scythe against a bookcase and looked for a comfortable spot on the ground. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered carrying the thing around; he didn't even use it for anything. It was just an added accessory. The reaper sat on the floor and leant against the wall, soon falling asleep. All reapers had to sleep on the grimy ground in the Shinigami Realm. He was used to it.


	4. Trick

4

Trick

The rest of Crazoa's week went by uneventfully, much to his boredom and Smith's complaining. The only way the boy was able to keep him shut up was to feed him excessive amount of apples each day. And his pocket money was straining. He decided he'd get himself a part time job at a corner store, and the worst possible thing that could have happened to Crazoa on his first day was to get held up by a robber.

_Great._ He thought hopelessly as the man with the stocking over his face held a gun to his head. Crazoa could fight, but not somebody with a gun. He was in trouble. The store was deserted; no one would be able to jump the thief from behind. And the man had blocked the door too.

The shop's technology was out of date, there weren't any security cameras, nor was there even a button that would alert the police. The shop was an easy target to criminals.

"Hey, you could always kill him." Smith said hopefully. This human was beginning to get boring. It didn't want to kill anyone unless they picked on him and that had only happened once. And those two boys hadn't died yet. That would be tomorrow.

"Give me all the money you've got in the cash register!" the man shouted, "One wrong move and I'll put the bullet through your head!"

"Well if you could pass me the notebook, maybe I would." Crazoa muttered through the corner of his mouth.  
"What did you say?!" the man shouted again, "Hurry up and hand over the money!"

"Right away, sir!" Crazoa said, acting startled; as he reached for the cash register below the desk with one arm still in the air surrendering and his eyes carefully watching the criminal, he felt his fingers clasp around a pen placed on top of a notebook.

He realised that he didn't know the mans name, and just as he was about to ask for the Shinigami eyes, Smith was hacking up his lungs and as the man was shaking the gun in outrage as he shouted at Crazoa to hurry up, Crazoa noticed something odd about it. There was a sloshing noise coming from inside.

Crazoa swore in his head, the damn phantom had tried to trick him to waste half his lifespan!

He straightened up, letting go of the pen. Now the criminal was startled.

"That's a water-gun." Crazoa said simply, smiling at the man. The boy was caught by surprise when he felt a fist make contact with his nose and he was sent flying backwards; crashing into the back shelf behind the counter.

"You bastard!" Crazoa swore and tried to get up. The man had leapt over the counter and had proceeded to hurriedly take money out of the cash register.

The boy leapt to his feet even faster; no he wasn't letting his first pay get away. He sent a flying kick at the man's back, who toppled forward into the counter, and was knocked out as his head hit the desk.

Panting and wiping blood from his nose, Crazoa took out his cell phone and called the police.

Smith looked even more disappointed than before. Sure, he had seen an awesome fight, but the kid hadn't fallen for his trick. Oh well, better luck next time.

Crazoa had tied up the man with rope he had found for sale, tying his hands and feet together so he was bent over. That way he couldn't move.

Police officers arrived at the scene five minutes later just as the knocked out man was waking up. They had identified him by the ID he had been carrying in his wallet, and the police took Crazoa to the station to interrogate him.

"The bloody kid attacked me! I didn't do anything I just asked for a cigarette packet and he kicked me in the face!" The man lied desperately. The officer who was interrogating the pair was named Roy Allen. After the stream of lies that gullible Roy believed, he dismissed the man and spoke to Crazoa.

He cleared his throat, "Mr. Canely, the alleged man, Rafael Donohan told me that you attacked him when he entered the store, is this correct?"

"No!" Crazoa exclaimed, outraged that the officer would believe such a lie. What kind of people were they allowing to go into this career these days?!

"Then according to you, what happened?" Roy said with raised eyebrows. He had had to deal with Crazoa Canely before in the past, and he wasn't about to believe his lies.

"He came in with a gun and told me to give him the money, just like any standard thief, but when I realised that his gun was fake he punched me in the face and tried to get the money himself, so I knocked him out and called the police, that's what really happened!" Crazoa said truthfully.

Roy's eyebrows rose further, "He claimed that you hit him in the face, and the gun was yours."

"Far out!" Crazoa shouted angrily, "The bloody liar! If I had hit him in the face his nose would be bleeding, my nose hasn't even recovered yet and you're calling me a liar?!" the boy stood up and banged his fists on the table, "Do a bloody fingerprint DNA test if you have to! I swear I'm innocent!"

Roy also stood up, looming over Crazoa, "Alright we'll look into it, you can go home now."

Absolutely outraged that he had been so falsely accused, as soon as Crazoa was out side the station he pulled out his notebook and wrote the names without even thinking.

_Rafael Donohan_

_Roy Allen_

"But won't they know it was you if you just kill them normally?" croaked Smith.

Crazoa didn't reply to him, he was still angry at the Shinigami for trying to trick him. As a result Crazoa had gotten into worse trouble. He admitted that what he had just done was entirely stupid, but he just wanted those bastards to die as quickly as he could make them. He didn't care if he was found out anymore. If he was under suspicion, as least it would bring a little excitement to his life.

As soon as Crazoa had gotten home, he had grabbed the newspaper and written down every name he could find that had photos to match them. He didn't even read the articles, it didn't matter who they were; he just wanted to kill, kill, kill!

_This is finally getting interesting!_ Smith thought gleefully.

-

"Near."

"Yes Giovanni?" the teenage boy who was busy completing a puzzle said.

"We've just gotten a report and a cry for help from the Australian Prime Minister," The older man declared, "There's been a mass amount of heart attacks in a certain area."

"I already know this." Near said, not drawing his attention from his puzzle.

"I see… do you think it's Kira? Yagami has died but there's a high possibility that there is a new notebook."

"Yes, it's most definitely a notebook, but it's not Kira." Near narrowed his eyes as he finished the puzzle, and tore it up again.

"Sir…?"

"Kira targeted criminals and people after him only, but this new Kira kills anyone who he can find the names to. If you must call him Kira, then call him Cheap Kira." Near had moved onto some standard playing cards and had begun building a castle with them.

"And… are you going to start an investigation?"

"Well, I suppose I might. There have not been many cases that have struck my interest yet… but I'm trying to think of what L would do." The tower he was building got taller as he spoke. "Giovanni… round up all the members of the previous Kira task force. Give them this," Near knocked the tower over to retrieve an envelope which had been on the other side, "They are tickets to Sydney where most of the victims have been targeted. We'll be there by Thursday if all goes well."

Giovanni took the envelope from him, "Yes sir, I'll contact them right away."


	5. Found

"…_I want all of you to go to that school tomorrow, and request to see Crazoa Canely."_

"_But Near, don't you think that this is all a bit to obvious?" Ide piped up, "This could be some kind of trap, he might be expecting this and he might do the eye deal with his Shinigami – if he hasn't already – so he can kill us all."_

_Near grinned, "You obviously haven't learned much from your experiences. We'll be wearing masks."_

"_This isn't what L would have done… it's so reckless." Matsuda muttered to Ide._

_Near had heard what Matsuda had said, and he smiled, "That's exactly what I'm counting on."_

6

Found

"Crazoa Canely, please come to the principle's office; Crazoa Canely." A loud announcement came from the speaker that was placed in every classroom.

Crazoa looked up from the eyeball he had been dissecting in science class; what was this about? He hadn't done anything wrong. Not a single prank, he was way too popular to have to bother. Could he have been framed? No, that was just as unlikely.

_Argh, stop fretting, he probably just wants to see me because I got a phone call or something like that._

"What do you think he wants?" Smith croaked.

Sighing, Crazoa washed his hands and packed his bag. He said goodbye to the teacher and his 'friends' and headed for the office upstairs.

"What a pain." He muttered as he trumped up the staircase. The office was right at the very top.

Finally when he got there, panting of course, he knocked on the door and turned the knob.

Crazoa was further perplexed to see a group of ridiculous looking men in white masks. On the floor was a boy just a few years older than him playing with an action figurine and twirling a white lock of hair around his finger. He also, wore a mask.

"Erm…" Crazoa said slowly, "Is this some kind of joke?"

The principle was tied up in a chair, "Sorry," said one masked man with an afro said to the principle, "We wouldn't have done this if it weren't absolutely necessary."

"Giovanni, Rester, take him now!" the boy at the floor shouted.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Smith as two men came running at Crazoa, resulting them in walking through the Shinigami, and before Crazoa could react let alone fight them off, his hands were cuffed behind his back and he was forced to walk further into the room.

The other boy's voice came out differently, as if he was smiling under his mask, "I am L."

It was a short, simple phrase, but it took a larger toll on Crazoa than he had imagined. Even though it was very hard to believe that just this teenager was the best detective in history but all the same, what seventeen year old had this kind of power? Crazoa's obsidian eyes widened and his calm attitude toppled down on him as he began hyperventilating. He had not expected this to happen! What were they going to do?! Execute him?! Not that that was even legal in Australia, but they could take him to America or Japan to do it, or even just lock him up for life! Would they care that he was underage? He had committed the most violent act in history, probably even worse than the first Kira seeing as he had intentionally killed innocents! Dear God, what was he going to do?

"You're in trouble now," croaked the phantom at his side.

"You are under suspicion of being Kira." 'L' said, "Of course… not the original Kira, you are Cheap Kira. Your reaction has of course… increased that chance."

Crazoa gulped loudly. _Deny, deny, deny!_ He thought.

"W-what?! What are you talking about is this some kind of kidnapping?! A set up?!" he said nervously. "This is a set up!" he shouted, eyes darting wildly, "I don't know anything about Kira, I've been bloody framed!" The men that were holding him forced him to the ground on his stomach as he struggled.

"Would one of you be so kind as to search Mr. Canely's bag?" L said.

A heavy set man walked over to Crazoa and bent over to the boy on the floor to reach into his backpack. He retrieved the notebook.

_S-so they know!_ Crazoa thought. _How?! T-they must have caught the original Kira after all, he must have been prosecuted, am I going to die too?! No! I'm too young to die. Shit, shit, shit!!_

"This is it, L." The large man said, "It's definitely real, it's got the Shinigami to go with it." He passed the Death Note around and everyone was able to see the creature. It finally reached L, who looked up at the phantom.

"Thank you," L said to the large man. Then he turned to the creature. "It's nice to meet you, Shinigami."

"Ohoh, this is definitely getting interesting!" Smith croaked, "My name's Smith, nice to meet ya!"

_What is he doing?!_ Crazoa thought furiously and cursed the Shinigami. This was the enemy they were dealing with!

L turned back to Crazoa, and took of his mask; the other men followed suit. Crazoa realised, that the masks were a precaution in case he had made the eye deal. Christ, they knew more about the Death Note than what he would have ever thought.

Crazoa finally realised that there was no denying it. He had wanted to have some fun for longer; a year or a month at least. But seriously; a hardly even two weeks?!

"Al_right_ you win!" Crazoa exclaimed forcefully, and then he couldn't help but grin madly. "So what are you going to do? Kill me?"

Near narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. This boy was clearly insane, perhaps just as insane as Yagami had been. Canely was not ashamed of his actions; he had not tried to create a better world yet he evidently gained pleasure from causing the deaths of others.

The young investigator had no intention of killing the boy. He was a mere 15 years old and not of age. Near was not one to break the law even if it were for the greater good. Perhaps a mental hospital would see fit.

"Of course not, but you will be put under custody with strict security. But I assure you, you will be well taken care of." L nodded.

"Well then," Crazoa gave a slight insane giggle, "Smith, you kill me!"

"Whaaaa?!" The Shinigami screeched in surprise, "Why me?!"

"Well, you'll get the remainder of my lifespan, better than just half right?" Crazoa reasoned.

Smith gave a croaky chuckle, undoubtedly enjoying the show, "Naah… I think I'll just enjoy the show for a little longer."

"Gah!" Crazoa growled and squirmed, trying to get away from the men who were holding him down. How dare that goddamn Shinigami disobey him? The boy longed to give it a good kick as he fidgeted. "You bastard! Get back here at once!"

"The Shinigami is not under your command," L interrupted the argument, "And he is not on your, nor on my side. Was this unclear when you met?"

"Hmmm, I mighta forgot to mention it!" Smith laughed gleefully.

Crazoa's angry expression faltered; he now looked… miserable, and hopeless.

The supposed L finally stood up, "Come, we might as well get this over and done with." He took his action figurine with him as he led the group out of the office. The man with the afro once again apologized to the appalled principle and untied him.

Crazoa was led out by the man who's name was apparently Rester.

As the odd group walked through the school, students watched in aghast as their idol was led away by agents. Everybody wondered what Crazoa had done that had been so bad that such official looking men were taking him away. Almost immediately, ridiculous rumours began flying through the school, but soon enough, Crazoa was a thing of the past, as the boy never returned.

The End?

I should think not!


	6. Boredom and Beyond

**A/N I just realised that I've been writing Giovanni and Rester's names wrong. It's meant to be Gevanni and Lester. Woops x3 I'll fix it…. One day.**

_Crazoa was led out by the man who's name was apparently Rester._

_As the odd group walked through the school, students watched in aghast as their idol was led away by agents. Everybody wondered what Crazoa had done that had been so bad that such official looking men were taking him away. Almost immediately, ridiculous rumours began flying through the school, but soon enough, Crazoa was a thing of the past, as the boy never returned._

7

Boredom and Beyond

_29__th__ April – _The mass murders of innocent people abruptly stopped, as Crazoa Canely's Death Note was confiscated and he was taken into the investigation headquarters for questioning.

"Why did you do it?" Near had asked, just to make sure of his assumption.

"_Why?_" Crazoa had smirked, "I did it because I was bored."

Mr. and Mrs. Canely were appalled to hear what their son had done, and were too afraid to speak to him.

_30__th__ April_ – Crazoa Canely was sent to a mental asylum, where he was put under strict security. The same day, the new Kira's capture was announced. Out of respect and request of his parents, Crazoa's neither name nor location was released.

The media exploded for the next half a week.

The Shinigami, Smith; had no choice but to stay with the boy. The Death Note was destroyed, but Crazoa had never given up ownership. This irritated him highly.

_15__th__ May_

In the very corner of a bright white padded cell sat a slumped boy. His forehead was pressed against the wall as he sat, lost in his thoughts. His hair was now a messy black mop and a white straitjacket pinned his arms around his body. It was quite irritating. Sometimes he would need to scratch an arm or a leg, or even a cheek and he would be unable to, there was no one to scratch an itch for him. Sometimes he would get a bit of mess on his face; there'd be no body to wipe it for him or even to hand over a tissue. He was lost in his thoughts, some of them expressed sorrow and misery, some of them were insane and he'd be often blinded by these thoughts. But there was a part of his mind that held on to what little sanity he had left, and plotted.

Some nurses, as they sometimes delivered food or some kind of medicine that the boy denied to take, they would wonder; 'Why is he here?'.

For you see, this boy's name was Crazoa Canely, and he seemed to be just as normal as you or I. But he had committed a crime, the most violent act in murderous history, and he was thought to be corrupted as he took pleasure in the death of others.

'_I did not attempt to cleanse the world with the Death Note; no, I sought to destroy it.'_

'_Why…?'_

'_Because I was bored.'_

'_And I still am.'_

The nurses at the asylum had not seen Crazoa's cold hearted nature. They were not informed as to why he was sent here, but it was demanded by the greatest detective of all, in the end they had no choice.

They had once fought to free Crazoa; they believed his custody was a mistake.

Because when nurses slipped into a conversation with the boy, they were pulled into his spell by his charms. Crazoa was polite, witty, fun-loving, and with no doubt; intelligent. They all agreed that had they been younger, Crazoa would be their ideal partner.

Even though…

…Sometimes they overheard him talking to himself…

…But honesty… who didn't every once in a while?

-

_Current day: 19__th__ May_

There was a quiet knock at the door and a young nurse entered, "Good morning Craz," she smiled as she entered… _without_ a breakfast tray.

Crazoa had been sitting in his usual corner. He turned around on his backside, "Morning Sal." He yawned widely and wondered where the food was. Crazoa somehow looked all the more sallow and pale than ever, and there were now dark circles under his eyes and he looked skinnier than he usually did, though he maintained a healthy diet and slept normally.

"You're going outside for breakfast today." Sal informed him, "The guards have agreed."

"Out… side…?" Crazoa said slowly, scrutinizing the nurse. It was not that the word was unfamiliar to him, but it was appalling. He had not been allowed out of his cell apart from bathroom breaks for over two weeks.

"Yes, outside; and you also have a visitor."

"…Visitor?" Who would be visiting him? Because it sure as hell wasn't his parents.

One of the guards – Crazoa's tight security – walked in with handcuffs.

Of course; there was always a catch.

Once his straitjacket was off and his hands were bound in front of him, Crazoa was led out into a terrace like area out side. It was surrounded by the buildings of the asylum. No way out. There was a great tall oak tree in the centre of the area. Crazoa made a rough mental calculation. It would at _least_ be two meters wide. (No, not quite as obsessive as L himself)

There was a few other patience at picnic tables; those that were not particularly dangerous. They were enjoying their own breakfast or simply participating in a meaningless chat or enjoying some fresh air.

However there was one other person who was in handcuffs apart from Crazoa. He was tall with long messy black hair that didn't look like it had been brushed in a life time. He particularly seemed to be enjoying strawberry jam which he ate straight from a large jar. The strange man was also accompanied by a security guard.

Finally, Crazoa's own security guard led him to a picnic table. There was a man waiting there, watching him. Crazoa instantly turned around, "I'm not going!" he said stubbornly.

"Yes you _will._" The guard insisted, "He came all the way from America to see you, you should be great full."

Crazoa faced the guard, and pointed at the waiting man. He had to lift both arms to do so as his hands were cuffed, "He's one of the men who participated in my capture. I'm not talking to him, and that's _final._" His expression was one of disgust and pure rage. He was overwhelmed with anger, how dare that wretched agent show his face here?!

"Well I'll drag you if I have to." The guard grabbed Crazoa by the back of the uniform and proceeded to attempt to pull Crazoa a long.

Instead of letting the guard do so, Crazoa simply sat in the grass. "No." he huffed.

The bulky man groaned while Crazoa's visitor watched with a highly amused expression; The man with the matted hair who had finished his jam was now also watching; how embarrassing! The guard tugged hard on Crazoa's uniform and dragged him through the grass. He reached the table where the visitor was waiting. He lifted Crazoa easily by the armpits and sat him in the chair. Crazoa didn't face his visitor; instead, he simply twirled around in his seat and faced the opposite way. He didn't even touch the breakfast that had been placed there for him.

"Apologies Mr Gevanni sir, that's as good as I can get him." The guard grumbled, and waddled off to watch from a distance.

Gevanni thanked him and cleared his throat, "Mr. Canely…?" he asked the boy cautiously, who now had a sloppy appearance about him.

He received no reply; he glanced at the creature which still accompanied Crazoa. As long as it was still haunting him, then the boy would be kept here. He had been told such by Near himself. Crazoa how ever refused to give up ownership of the – now destroyed – Death Note. Gevanni tried again.

"Ne- I mean L, has been wondering how you were coping."

That was enough to make Crazoa snap. He twirled back around to face Gevanni and was at his feet with a flash. He bent over the table, nose to nose with the investigator, "Tell your pathetic little white-haired geezer, that thanks to him; I'm now stuck in this hell hole where I am 'Well taken care of', with no sunlight, no decent food and no intelligent company!" he snarled.

Crazoa's guard looked like he was about to tackle the boy, but Gevanni held up a hand to stop him. He then looked Crazoa calmly in the eyes with his hands together. "I will speak to the nurses about your privileges; and I will also pass the message on. We wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable.

However… the acts that you made may or may not have been your fault, and L has agreed that you need to be specially looked after."

With that said; Gevanni stood up and calmly walked away without looking back at the boy, nodding to the guard and thanking a nurse.

Crazoa sat down on the bench, picking at his food and still fuming, having suddenly lost his appetite. How was he supposed to eat with cuffed hands anyway? Before he could start to think of a way, there was a soft thump opposite Crazoa.

He looked up and saw the strange man with the matted hair. Now that Crazoa saw him close up, he could see that the man had dark bruises under his eyes, but whether it was stress like why Crazoa had his, or lack of sleep; he was not sure. He also had a slightly wild and paranoid look at him.

"Hello, I'm Beyond." He said.


End file.
